


Bruises On My Knees For You

by mammothluv



Category: Grey’s Anatomy
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2099880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mammothluv/pseuds/mammothluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There’s some comfort in being the only screwed up sister. But this… this could be interesting too.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises On My Knees For You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [](http://pure-ecstasy6.livejournal.com/profile)[**pure_ecstasy6**](http://pure-ecstasy6.livejournal.com/) for [](http://fandomaid.livejournal.com/profile)[**fandomaid**](http://fandomaid.livejournal.com/). Thank you so much for bidding on me and I hope you enjoy this! Many thanks to [](http://beerbad.livejournal.com/profile)[**beerbad**](http://beerbad.livejournal.com/) for betaing and also to [@stern_regina](https://twitter.com/stern_regina) for the encouragement!
> 
>  _Grey’s Anatomy_ belongs to Shonda Rhimes and ABC. Title was inspired by the Chairlift song “Bruises.” No copyright infringement is intended.  
> 

I.

“It’s like those commercials with the puppies.”

Meredith sighs and looks forlornly at her beer. Why didn’t she order tequila? A beer buzz is not going to be enough to help her deal with her situation.

“You know, they’re all wounded and sad in those teeny tiny cages,” Meredith continues. Her hands wave in the air as she speaks and flutter closer together to demonstrate the close confines of the cages.

The bartender is not looking at her, much less listening to a word she’s saying. Joe would at least pretend to listen. Travelling sucks.

“And if you don’t adopt them or give money right this minute, they’ll put them down. And I don’t want a puppy. I can’t be responsible for a puppy or its wounded puppy feelings. I had a dog once. It didn’t work out well.” She addresses this last statement to the man sitting next to her who seems slightly more attentive than the bartender who has wandered several feet away by this point.

The man next to her at least casts a glance in her direction before he turns his attention back to his own glass. Scotch. Meredith likes a scotch man and he’s attractive enough. He’d maybe even be devastatingly handsome if she had a few shots in her. On another night she might pursue that.

Tonight she’s preoccupied.

“They guilt you. That’s what those commercials do. They play that Sarah McLachlan song in the background and they guilt you into thinking you’re responsible for the poor sad puppies whether you want anything to do with one or not.”

A long swig and she’s finished with her beer. Meredith is attempting to catch the bartender’s attention and order a proper shot, maybe several, to drown the guilt of ignoring her metaphorical puppy when she spots Lexie.

Lexie wasn’t in the bar when Meredith arrived. Meredith is sure of that. But she’s here now. Meredith’s half-sister is slumped in a back booth alone, staring forlornly into the corner, and drinking what to Meredith looks suspiciously like an actual Coke without any liquor in it.

“Damn,” Meredith mutters to no one in particular.

Not only does Lexie choke in the middle of high-pressure medical conference presentations, she’s apparently completely incompetent at dealing with the aftermath.

Meredith wants to be disgusted with the girl -- not for screwing up, that endears her to Meredith more than most things Lexie has done since showing up in her life. But she wants to hate the sad eyes, the defeated slump of Lexie’s shoulders. She wants to dismiss Lexie as weak. Meredith learned to deal with shit like this on her own a long time ago; Lexie should too.

Meredith should walk away, maybe grab the scotch drinker by the hand and whisper something in his ear that would make him stutter and blush as he agreed to follow her back to her room.

But Meredith can’t do any of that because something about the downward turn of Lexie’s eyes is calling Meredith toward the booth and its sad-looking occupant, toward a responsibility Meredith absolutely does not want or need.

It’s the fucking puppy effect.

Meredith pulls a credit card out of her wallet and slams it down on the bar emphatically enough to capture the bartender’s attention.

“The rest of that bottle,” she says, nodding at a quarter-empty bottle of tequila sitting on the shelf behind the bar. “And two shot glasses.”

Lexie looks almost scared when Meredith arrives at her table, like she thinks maybe Meredith is going to add just one more shitty thing to an already shitty day.

Meredith plunks down the bottle of tequila and glasses and announces, “I’m going to tell you about the time I showed up to my 2nd year oral exams high and your little fuck-up this afternoon is going to look tame in comparison.”

Lexie looks relieved in a way that manages to leave Meredith feeling both pleased with and terrible about herself at the same time.

Rather than dwell on that, Meredith adds, “Also, we’re drinking.” She punctuates the statement by pushing Lexie’s glass of Coke to the side, shoving one of the shot glasses toward her sister, and starting to pour.

II.

_It’s anyone’s guess how they get from there to the pool. Meredith just knows it was hours later, late enough for the hallways to be mostly deserted and the pool completely so._

_Meredith won’t bother trying to remember later if she suggested the trip to the pool there in the bar, took Lexie by the hand and pulled her stumbling out into the dark night. Or if maybe they were just passing by, on their way to separate rooms -- a scenario that at least relieves Meredith of the burden of premeditation._

_What Meredith does remember is this:_

Her fingernails -- hard and insistent -- are digging into the soft flesh of Lexie’s palm. Lexie is whispering urgently, “But the pool is closed. It closed at nine,” as Meredith reaches a hand inside the bars of the fence and fumbles with the flimsy lock until the gate swings open.

Meredith pulls her dress over her shoulders in one smooth motion -- a victory given the amount of alcohol in her system. Her heels go skittering under some chair or another. In the morning she’ll realize only one has made it back to her room with her. Her stockings, underwear, and bra follow.

Lexie’s eyes are wide but she does not turn away from Meredith. In fact, Lexie stares in a way that Meredith swears she can actually feel heating her skin despite the late night breeze.

It’s all flashes from then on, flashes that will heat Meredith with both shame and arousal when she wakes the next morning. In her own hotel room, alone, Meredith will run a hand up her own thigh and remember Lexie’s hand traveling the same path, her fingers already slick with Meredith’s arousal.

“Such a good girl,” Meredith mutters under her breath when Lexie hesitates after stripping off her clothes and decides to leave her bra and underwear on. Still, Meredith’s eyes travel the firm lines of her sister’s body, appreciating the black lace, especially the way it clings once Lexie has jumped in the pool.

There’s something thrilling about thinking impure thoughts of her innocent little sister, Meredith decides.

Her gaze travels up the curve of Lexie’s breast, and she imagines her tongue traveling the same path, collecting the small beads of water that lie there against Lexie’s chest, rising and falling slowly with each breath. Meredith could make her breathe harder, faster. She can imagine the sound of it in her ear, can almost feel the texture of lace mixing with the smoothness of Lexie’s skin as her tongue travels the same path her eyes take now.

Her thoughts still momentarily when her eyes rise high enough to meet Lexie’s own. Lexie’s eyes are half-closed but intent on Meredith as she treads water just feet away.

Meredith is used to thinking inappropriate things. She isn’t used to Lexie looking at her like Lexie might be thinking them too.

There’s some comfort in being the only screwed up sister. But this… this could be interesting too.

Lexie breaks eye contact, swims fast in the opposite direction. Meredith is still for a moment, her tequila-fogged brain suddenly intent on the glow of the moonlight against Lexie’s bare arms as they slice through the water.

But she’s only still for a moment because Lexie’s at the side of the pool now, her hands bracing against the concrete like she’s about to lift herself out and suddenly that’s the last thing Meredith wants to happen.

Meredith closes the distance between them as quickly as she is able, comes up behind Lexie effectively trapping Lexie’s body between Meredith and the edge of the pool. Her hands settle at Lexie’s hips, sliding along her sides. Bare skin, rough lace, up and down again.

“Meredith, we have to stop.” The words come out of Lexie’s mouth haltingly but Lexie’s body betrays her. Meredith feels the younger Grey shudder. She wraps a leg around Lexie, pulling her closer, and Lexie grinds her ass against Meredith.

“This is wrong,” Lexie exhales, but one of her hands has left the side of the pool to cover Meredith’s hand, urging it further down.

Meredith isn’t sure if the sound that comes out of Lexie next is a sigh of defeat or pleasure. She’s honest enough with herself to admit she doesn’t care.

She shifts to insinuate her leg between Lexie’s, then surges forward pushing Lexie hard against the wall of the pool and forcing her to grind against Meredith’s thigh.

The next sound to come out of Lexie’s mouth is definitely a moan of appreciation and Meredith feels her own arousal growing in response.

_Meredith wakes up in the morning, her head fuzzy, skin and sheets smelling of chlorine. And, before she’s fully awake, she reaches out, searching. Her hand finds the opposite side of the bed empty and, if what she feels is a pang of regret, Meredith tells herself it’s not because Lexie isn’t here._

_It was Meredith’s choice after all._

_She remembers lifting herself out of the water, pulling Lexie up and out after her. She remembers fingers interlocking with hers and the shock of the cold air against wet skin._

Dripping wet, wrapped in white hotel towels, with bundles of clothes in hand, they begin to make their way to the stairwell.

When Lexie takes Meredith’s hands and looks back at her with heavy-lidded eyes, the idea of getting back to her room, opening the door and leaning back allowing Lexie to pass through, makes Meredith’s chest clutch with panic.

She pulls Lexie’s hand, maybe harder than necessary, bringing the girl to a halting stop. And then she turns Lexie, pushing her into the women’s shower room.

They kiss sloppily, eager for different reasons, mouths tasting of tequila and chlorine.

Then Lexie is on the countertop of a line of bathroom sinks. There is cold tile against Meredith’s bare feet and, later, against her knees as she kneels down in front of Lexie and Lexie parts her legs further in response.

Lexie’s skin is chilled but warms quickly under Meredith’s touch, under her mouth.

Meredith bites, not gently, against the inside of Lexie’s thigh. Her tongue traces over now pinkened skin, soothing the mark. For a moment Meredith gets lost in the contrast, the dark mark she’s made against Lexie’s pale thigh.

Then Lexie’s hips jerk, bringing Meredith closer to where Lexie needs her. Lexie’s hands grasp wildly at Meredith’s hair, her shoulders.

In other situations, Lexie’s need crowds Meredith, sends something akin to panic skittering along her neural pathways. But this need, this doesn’t clog her lungs making it nearly impossible to breathe the way it does when Lexie looks at her like a sister.

This is where Meredith lives. This is what she understands. She can work with this.

Meredith’s tongue circles Lexie’s clit and Lexie giggles, straight-up giggles. Just for a split second Meredith has a vision of what they could have been: kids playing together in the yard, laughter intermingling.

But they’re this instead.

Meredith sucks on Lexie’s clit, flicks out her tongue again.

Lexie stops giggling.

_In the shower the next morning, Meredith doesn’t stop herself, fingers pumping rhythmically, thumb stroking her clit as the cold water pounds down on her, clearing the last of her hangover haze._

She’s remembering Lexie’s fingers, two, then three, uncertain at first but then faster and harder at Meredith’s insistence.

Meredith’s movements grow more frantic as she remembers the way Lexie finally lost herself in the moment, how her mouth had sought out Meredith’s breast, first flicking a tongue across Meredith’s nipple, then sucking it into her mouth.

She remembers the way Lexie had responded to Meredith bucking against her hand by pushing further into her, then curling her fingers as Meredith had tightened around them until Meredith had whispered, “Oh, fuck yes, Lexie,” as she gasped and arched against her.

Meredith comes again now, the memory of her sister’s fingers inside her all she needs to push her over the edge.

As the water of the hotel shower continues to rush down on her she laughs, thinking there’s no way she’ll ever actually feel clean again.

III.

When Meredith emerges from her room, Lexie is standing in the hallway just outside Meredith’s door. The way her sister’s head jerks up at the sound of the door opening makes Meredith wonder just how long Lexie has been standing there.

Lexie is holding two paper cups and extends a hand to offer one to Meredith. Her eyes focus on a spot on the wall just past Meredith’s left shoulder and a slight blush rises on her cheeks as she speaks.

“I know there was coffee in the rooms,” Lexie stammers. “But it wasn’t very good… well, mine wasn’t anyway so I figured yours… Well, anyway, I went across the street to Starbucks and I remembered Izzie picked up Starbucks once and you asked her for the Red Eye so…”

At the end of her ramble, Lexie waves the drink in Meredith’s direction again, still not looking Meredith directly in the eye.

For a moment there is a reply, acid on Meredith’s tongue wanting to burn its way out, that will send Lexie hurrying down the hallway in the opposite direction. It’s a conscious effort to quiet it but Meredith doesn’t feel the weight of it in the same way she has in the past.

Meredith grabs the cup from Lexie’s hand, allowing her fingers a moment to brush against Lexie’s.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes a sip. “The coffee in the rooms was definitely shit. You ready? We might as well share a cab to the airport I guess.”

Lexie smiles, bites her lip and looks down as she starts off in the direction of the elevator.

Meredith knows hope is dangerous, especially when it comes to her family. They’re way too late to do this sister thing right. But, for the first time, she thinks maybe they can do it anyway.  



End file.
